Dancing Queen
by Slayergirl
Summary: NOTHING to do with ABBA, apart from the title. Nikki goes to a Latin club with some friends, and has fun dancing, especially with a very special someone... rated for the very mild suggestiveness, which you might miss if you don't read the author's note.


**A/N: to quote from a fairly well-known film, "The rumba... is the vertical expression of a horizontal wish". There's dancing, and there's ..._dancing_, according to Doctor Who canon, anyway... Bear this in mind as you read ;) Sometimes, though, a dance really is just a dance!**

**And I LOVE salsa, so I had to have that in there as well! **

**Anyway, enjoy.**

Nikki shook her hair back as she shimmied, feeling elated, free, as she danced. She was glad she'd bowed to her friends' wheedling to come out with them; Club Latino was just as much fun as they'd said, and it was good to be out dancing again.

"Easy, tiger," chuckled a male voice behind her. A very familiar male voice.

She whipped round to face him. _"Harry?"_

He grinned. "The very same. Those are some good moves you've got there, Dr. Alexander – care to show them off with a partner?"

She blinked. "You dance?" He moved them into dance hold, and started leading her without comment. "No, wait a minute," she said, flabbergasted. "You actually _dance_."

"So it would appear," he agreed. "As, it seems, do you."

"You never said."

"You never asked."

"But you… you…" he spun her out to the side, then back in again so that she was tucked snugly into his side, his arm right around her. "You _seriously_ dance," she said, a little breathless, though admittedly, more from his proximity than from the exertion of dancing.

"Mm. One of my friends – female friends – once told me there's nothing sexier than a man who can dance. So, of course, I had to learn," he teased.

"To impress her?" she scoffed.

"Of course."

"Did it?"

"And every other girl in the year," he said smugly, spinning her out and back into dance hold again. "And _you_… where and when did you learn to dance like that?"

"After-school lessons, my school ran them. My best friend was going and she didn't want to go alone, so I went with her."

"And discovered you had a natural talent," he guessed.

She shrugged, but looked flattered. "Oh, I don't know. I just enjoyed it, that's all."

After a dip at the end of the song, she was about to let go of his hand, but he held her in hold until the song changed to a slower pace. Her heart fluttered; could she really deal with this? Dancing with Harry to a fun, flirty salsa was one thing, but this rumba was… well, bordering on romantic and dreamy, with a touch of sensual. Everything she'd like with Harry, but seemed pretty unlikely to get. She tried to block that out of her mind, and just dance with him. Surprisingly, the dance was over far too quickly.

"Drink?" She felt vaguely disappointed; she'd have liked to dance some more with him. As if guessing, he added, "don't worry, we can dance some more later."

"You're assuming I'll want to dance with you later," she replied lightly.

He merely laughed, hand at the small of her back to guide her through the crowds to the bar. "Nikki, you and I both know that no other guy you've danced with this evening has shown you off to your full advantage."

"You've been watching?" That thought, and the hand at her back, made her shiver a little.

He shrugged, seeming not to notice. "Guy sees a beautiful girl dancing amazingly, he's bound to take notice. I didn't realise it was you to begin with."

"Oh, so now you do…" she broke in as he ordered drinks.

"When I realised," he continued as he turned back to her, ignoring her interruption, "I came over to ask you for a dance. And, I might say, got a mouthful of hair into the bargain."

"Oh. Sorry." _Well, that explained the 'Easy, tiger' remark, anyway._

He shrugged easily. "Occupational hazard," he grinned.

"Of what occupation?" she asked, mind going into over-drive. _Not work, surely?_

"Dancing. Get your perverted mind out of the gutter, Nikki," he teased, amused when she blushed.

They chatted easily as they drank, and Nikki was vaguely surprised at how normal it felt. Sure, they'd been out for drinks before, they were best friends, but this… she was sure it ought to have felt different, awkward… it felt different to the other times they'd been out, but not awkward. In no way awkward.

As she finally set her glass back on the bar, she felt Harry tug her hand again. "Come on, Dancing Queen," he murmured. "Let's show them all how it's _really_ done."

She felt a tremor shoot through her, as she couldn't help images of _other_ things they could show people how to do flashed through her head.

If she thought Harry's moves were good before, she was blown away now. He wasn't just _good_, he was _amazing_. She glowed with pleasure; and he was dancing with _her_. She threw herself into it, following even the slightest of leads effortlessly, giving everything she could to the dance, just as he was, not even aware of the looks they were getting as he sent her into spins and turns, wraps and dips, kicks and taps.

As she laughed up at him in sheer joy at the end of dance, she noticed one of her friends gaping at them, open-mouthed, out of the corner of her eye. _Look at you, Nikki Alexander, dancing with the best damned dancer in the club,_ purred her inner voice happily.

Harry hugged her tightly. _You've got the hottest girl on the dancefloor in your arms_, reminded his inner voice with glee. _And she's happy about it!_

Both laughing breathlessly, he led her off the dancefloor. "We seem to have drawn an audience," she giggled. "Looks as though there's a queue building up to dance with you."

He groaned. "And with you."

She looked over in horror. "I'm _not_ going to dance with all those people."

"Me neither," he replied with feeling. "Shall we go?"

"What?"

"Escape," he grinned, catching hold of her hand. "Come on, Nikki!"

She couldn't help but laugh as he dragged her out of the club by way of the cloakrooms, giggling helplessly as they tumbled out into the cool summer-night air, clutching their jackets. She wondered if the euphoria was alcohol-induced, though she didn't think she'd had that much to drink. Was it Harry, then?

She cast a sidelong look at him, seeing him still smiling, his hands in his pockets. "So, now you've dragged us both away from the dancefloor, where do we go now?"

He shrugged; he was with Nikki, and felt deliciously carefree. "Wherever. Pub? Club? Where do you want to go?"

_Home with you_ would have been her most honest answer, but being only the slightest bit mellow – she'd drunk mainly soft drinks so as not to get dehydrated whilst dancing – she wisely decided against it. "Don't mind. What do you want to do?"

Harry thanked his lucky stars that he wasn't so drunk as to blurt out his immediate thought – _take you home with me._ Instead, he turned his gaze upwards and smiled. "Let's go for a walk."

Nikki gave him a slightly suspicious look; this was verging on the romantic, and therefore, rather unlike him. At least, around her. "Who are you, and what have you done with Harry?" she asked, half-joking.

"Set him free," he murmured, not looking at her. He turned to face her, just as they reached the middle of the bridge, and wound his arms round her waist. "Why? Are you missing him?"

She gulped. "N-no," she stuttered. "Not really."

"Good," he replied, bending his head to kiss her. Some time later, he smiled as he looked down at her, breathless and wide-eyed. "In answer to your earlier question… take you home with me. Where was it you wanted to go?"

She gave a sly smile. "Home with you."

Offering her his arm, he grinned down at her. "Well, that works out well, then."

Much later, Nikki reflected that she _really_ had to thank her friends for insisting she go dancing with them that night…


End file.
